Renwick
by NoxMortis
Summary: When the lives of an Assassin and Princess are intertwined in an act of fate, what will the two of them make of it? Or will the black of night steal it all away? Very AU, OC Characters all the way through.


**A/N: You're probably wondering what all of this is about. Well, this fanfiction really isn't' very Ranger's Apprentice centered. I'm putting it in here (1) because I wanted to share it to the world, and (2) because this was very much inspired by the first book of the series. I completely fell in love with the characterization in the book which compelled me to write this. It was originally done as an English short story is VERY AU and VERY OC, so warning to anyone expecting to read about Will.  
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**I hope you enjoy.**

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Renwick

"Straighten your back, Cassandra. You must keep a good posture or you look like a dirty, pleading peasant."

"Yes father,"

"Do you want to humiliate me tonight?"

"No father,"

"Then straighten that back!"

The princess immediately sat up and pulled her shoulders back. She stared warily at her father, the king of Crestwall, as he stood over her. Cassandra struggled to hold her relaxed demeanor under the immense pressure she felt emanating from him.

"That's much better," the king nodded in self agreement. "We have important guests coming tonight."

"Enlighten me,"

"Apparently the Duke of Exwire has news on the recent killings," the king turned away from his daughter, "he is visiting tonight to share his information."

A chill threatened to wrack Cassandra's spine. She hated war, especially when someone so seemingly powerful as her father could do nothing about it. The mysterious killings, better named assassinations, were apparently executed by a shadowy group rooted within the borders of Crestwall. To make it worse, the victims were all high ranking military officers or political figures.

"Cassandra,"

"Yes father?"

"I don't want you troubling yourself with this issue. It is not your duty as the Princess of Crestwall to think about these things; I will handle them myself."

Cassandra remained silent.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes father,"

"Renwick are you awake yet?"

He was awake before the knocking and shouting came. Perhaps it was the premonition of the fact that woke him at an unusually early time, or it could have just been coincidence. Either way, all he did was lie in his bed, wide awake, with nothing to do but stare at the ceiling.

"I know you're in there, Renwick."

Renwick covered his cold, blue eyes with his forearm as he silently bid for the messenger to leave. The thought previous night's events made his muscles scream in protest. The measly effort to get up and walk to the door in his small hut would be tiring enough, but then he'd have to deal with the news that awaited him on the other side of the door. It wasn't until Renwick heard his horse, Rhett, whine that he decided to get up.

"Don't you know that it's very rude to keep a guest waiting outside?"

Renwick smirked as he walked toward the only entrance to his hut. He ran his hands through his short, black hair. The messenger always stood right outside his door. Renwick could picture his face inches from the wood. In one swift, yet quite fowl, movement, Renwick swung his door open. It only moved several inches before it was halted.

"That was uncalled for," the messenger muttered.

"How many times have I told you that my door opens outward?" Renwick's statement was dry lacked humor.

"I have news from the boss," the messenger sneered as he stepped away from the door so Renwick could fully open it.

"Why else would you be here?"

Now flushed with irritation, the messenger decided to ignore Renwick. "Apparently this job is very important." The messenger handed the sealed parchment over to Renwick. "Boss demanded that you do the job and no one else."

Renwick stared down at the letter in his hand. "Is that all?"

"Yes,"

"Then leave." Renwick reached for his door handle and slammed his door shut before the messenger could say anything else. Renwick turned around and leaned against his door. With a sigh he opened the letter. "Interesting," Renwick scanned the contents of the letter before stepping outside. He turned to his right and walked up to his trusty horse. "We have a job tonight," he whispered as he stroked Rhett's neck, "this is going to be a fun one."

The day passed much quicker than Renwick expected. As dusk set in he quickly gathered his supplies. Renwick snatched up his sheathed combat knife and attached it to his belt. He also grabbed three smaller knives, specifically used for throwing, and strapped those to the leather holster on his right leg. As he stepped toward his front door, he grabbed his cloak. It wasn't black, like one would expect, instead it was a combination of many dark greens and browns that were perfect for blending in with his surroundings.

When Renwick stepped outside he immediately turned to Rhett who was already saddled and ready for departure. Rhett neighed in greeting to his rider who stroked his neck in response. Renwick walked calmly over to the side of the saddle. He placed one foot carefully in the stirrup and kicked his other over. Renwick mentally confirmed that he destroyed the letter that was delivered to him earlier that day; one of the many odd customs he had to follow. Tonight he had to ride into Crestwall, one of his least favorite areas of operation; it was too crowded for his liking, but he would have to make due. Renwick lightly jabbed his heel into Rhett's side and the horse began a light canter off toward Crestwall.

By the time he reached the border of Crestwall, the sun had finished its decent from the sky. Rhett, still brimming with energy, kept a steady pace throughout the long journey. By now, Renwick could see the bright lights that illuminated Crestwall Castle off in the distance. Renwick had no doubt in his mind that Rhett could keep his pace for the rest of the night, so he had nothing to worry about. Renwick watched, without awe, as the castle seemed to grow larger as he approached it. Eventually Rhett had successfully brought him as close to the castle as one could get without a royal invitation; large, stone walls now blocked his view of the magnificent building.

Renwick jumped off of Rhett and led him into the woods just outside of view from a patrolling guard; Rhett's slick black coat would help protect him from view. After he glanced both ways to make sure that no one was coming, Renwick approached the seemingly gigantic wall that separated him from the castle. He quickly ran his hands over it and felt rough groove where the separate stones were locked together. Renwick could easily climb the wall without giving anything away. He smirked; jobs like this shouldn't be so easy.

With very little effort, Renwick swiftly made his way up the wall. He was now perched on top. Without leaning forward, Renwick gazed down at the castle grounds below him. He was roughly twelve feet off of the ground. From that height he could easily break his leg if he jumped down. Renwick gazed at the large building, now looming over him. Even if Renwick was able to safely descend the wall, the chances of him getting into the castle unnoticed would be very little. He needed to find another way in.

Renwick examined his options. He doubted that he would be welcomed with open arms if he strolled in through the front door. If he followed the wall from his perch, he might be able to sneak in through a window. Renwick looked over to his left where the wall continued to wrap around the castle. He furrowed his brow. The castle was a good ten feet away from the wall. There's no way that Renwick would be able to jump that, and, if by some miracle he did, he would be noticed. He then looked to his right. There was a large wooden door guarded by two sentries. That must have been the entrance; there was no point in taking unnecessary risks.

Even though the chances of him getting into the castle seemed slim, Renwick crouched and swiftly darted to his left. He was looking for some kind of outcropping on the castle wall that he may be able to leap over to. About halfway around the wall, Renwick found what he was looking for. No one was idiotic enough to grow a large tree right inside the barricade so that an intruder could easily climb across it and into the castle, but no one ever thought about the trees on the outside of the barricade. Renwick effortlessly leaped onto a tree of this kind; it was tall and stretched over the barricade enough that he would be able to get in the castle walls without giving himself away. Renwick cautiously climbed across the branch that reached out the farthest toward the castle.

He was now close enough to the castle walls he could actually touch them, but the branch he was perched upon creaked in protest under his weight. Renwick had no doubt that it would snap if he stayed there any longer, but he had to be careful; if he distributed his weight unevenly, then the branch would break for sure. As quickly as he would let himself, Renwick leaned forward for the castle wall which was made out of the same stone as the barricade; from what he could tell.

Even before the snap shattered the silence of the night, Renwick recognized his mistake. As the branch fell out from underneath him, he reached to try and grasp the stone wall; hopefully he'd be able to grab one of the grooves before hitting the ground. Renwick suppressed a cry of pain as his hands scraped against the pointed rock. He eventually was able to grasp the edge of a not-as-sharp windowsill. As soon as his fall was halted, Renwick found grooves that he placed his feet in. For several moments he stood still as he waited for the shock to wear off.

As soon as he was able to calm himself, he lifted himself a little to peer through the window that saved his life. There was plenty of light coming from this room, so Renwick only allowed himself a tiny peek. The room appeared to be empty. Renwick was about to continue his climb when he heard voices. He immediately ducked his head under the windowsill and listened out for patrolling guards that surely would have heard the large branch snap. But the voices were not coming from outside, there was someone inside the castle that was talking now. Renwick strained to listen.

"Princess please," a woman's pleading voice was clear, "you mustn't argue with your father. He knows what he's doing."

"No he does not!" Another woman shouted; anger laced her words.

"Even so, milady, you must trust him."

Neither of the women spoke, but Renwick didn't dare raise his head. His arms ached from holding himself onto the wall. The gashes in his hands that he earned from the sharp stone in the walls stung like they were on fire. Not to mention that blood had accumulated around his hands and it made it hard to keep a firm grip on the smooth windowsill. Renwick attempted to shift his position, but he tensed up when he heard a door open from inside the castle.

"Milady," a man, most likely a guard, flatly began, "I must inform you that an intruder is suspected to have infiltrated the out walls of the castle. You are instructed to stay in your quarters until we find this intruder."

Neither of the women in the room replied and the door was shut. Renwick gritted his teeth. They knew he was there, he needed to move quickly.

"An intruder has invaded?" The princess mused. "I wonder what he's like."

"Milady, you heard the guard. You are not allowed outside."

"I know, don't go freaking out on me, I'm just opening the window for some fresh air."

Renwick stiffened. If he stayed in his current position under the window he would surely be seen. He quickly climbed around the window so he was directly above it. If Renwick had learned anything about sneaking around, it was that people never tend to look up. The window opened beneath him and he immediately stilled.

"I wish I could get out of here." The princess' voice was clear now that the window had been opened. "I wish that something, anything, would just come and take me into the world of wonders."

Renwick cautiously looked down. The woman, he assumed it was the princess, had light blonde hair that extended past his view. She was leaning on the windowsill just looking off into the distance. She was wearing a fine lace dress that covered her arms and silk gloves over her delicate hands. She had a lithe figure that and stood at an average height. Renwick held back a grunt. Her elbow was mere inches from the bloodstain left by his mangled hands; fingerprints were obvious in the crimson streak. Renwick was too lost in his thoughts to hear the door open once again.

"Cassandra," another male voice, this one much younger, whined from inside the room, "will you come protect me so the bad guy doesn't come?"

The princess turned away from the window. "Don't worry, Andrew." The tone in her voice had changed dramatically. "I won't let the bad guy get you. Come on; let's go finish your bedtime story."

"You mean the one about the brave knight?"

"Yeah, that one,"

The pair of voices grew distant as they traveled farther into the castle walls. Renwick listened as the third, most likely the princess' maid, blew out the lanterns that illuminated the room and closed the door as she too exited the room. Renwick immediately dropped onto the windowsill.

"How idiotic," he murmured to himself, "not only does she not notice blood on the windowsill, but she also left the window wide open."

Renwick silently climbed down from the window. He turned to the plain white drapes that hung next to his entrance. Renwick smirked as he took the knife from his belt. He cut off two strips of fabric from the drapes and fashioned bandages for his hands.

"They might as well just hold a parade for my arrival," Renwick scoffed.

He walked up to the door and quietly opened it a crack. He peered out into the corridor. It was lit by lanterns which gave it an eerie feel. After confirming that the corridor was empty, Renwick stepped out. He made sure to silently close the door so that it latched shut. He was now able to closely observe the corridor. It was more like a balcony that wrapped around the main entrance to the castle. On the level below him there was only one pair of large double doors, excluding the main entrance, which would lead to the throne room. A single guard stood in front of the large door, but he had yet to notice anything suspicious.

Renwick slowly pulled one of his throwing knives out from the holster on his leg. He gripped it by the blade and stepped into his throw. A soft thud resounded in the relatively empty room and the guard fell, dead before he hit the ground. Satisfied with the precision of his throw, Renwick leaped down from the second floor right in front of his victim. He immediately pulled the other two knives out from the holster.

Renwick gazed up at the large double doors with an apathetic expression. His eyes, sharper than the blades in his hands, stared apathetically forward. Renwick kicked the doors. The surprisingly weak hinges did not protest, but instead they obediently flew open. The throne room was not particularly large, but the lack of people made it feel so. There were two guards a few feet from Renwick that stared at him in shock; neither of them realizing what was really happening. The king sat on his throne at the back end of the room. Renwick was then caught off guard by the last of the four. He immediately recognized her as the princess, Cassandra, she was called.

For a single moment no one moved. It was Renwick who finally snapped out of shock as he charged forward at the two guards. The first was too slow to react; Renwick easily pulled one of his three knives across his throat. The other guard charged at Renwick, but he was ready for him. The guard attempted to strike his head with his sword. Renwick ducked and swiped the guard's feet out from under him. As the guard fell backward Renwick jabbed a throwing knife straight through his neck. As the second guard hit the ground, Renwick relaxed and stood straight up. The king was now standing. He seemed to be bickering with his daughter, pleading her to leave. Renwick calmly approached them. The king looked up at him. Cassandra backed away from her father who stood protectively in front of her. Renwick looked up at the king who stood several inches taller than him.

"What do you want?" The king demanded.

Renwick did not answer at first. "I don't want anything. I'm merely here for business."

"Who sent you?"

Renwick smirked, "I'm sure you already know that."

The king's eyes widened in astonishment, "You were sent by _him_?"

"Bingo," Renwick whispered. He was now holding his last throwing knife up to the king's throat. Renwick gazed into his eyes, what he saw was total hopelessness and defeat. Without a second thought, Renwick pulled the knife across the king's throat. Cassandra, who was silent up until now, screamed in horror as her father fell. She crumpled to her knees and began to sob.

"Why?" She cried, "Why would you do this?"

Renwick looked down on her with pity, "It was nothing personal. I was just following orders."

Cassandra looked up at her father's killer. He held his blade up over her head. Cassandra stared back, but continued to sob.

Renwick clenched his teeth and swore under his breath. "Look at me," he growled and lowered his knife. "This is my last knife." Renwick pointed to the weapon in his hand. "It's up to you whether or not you will die tonight."

The princess' eyes lit up, "What do you mean?"

"I am not allowed to leave any witnesses of tonight's events alive," he explained, "but if you come with me, that will solve both of our problems."

Cassandra stared back at the assassin, doubt clouded her chocolate eyes.

"You either come with me, or die."

The princess stared back at Renwick, her gaze now determined. "I'll come with you."

Renwick smirked. "Good," he replied, "I was hoping you'd say that."

Renwick woke early the next morning. Cassandra had slept in his bed that night, so Renwick slept on his hard wood floor. His hands burned. Dirt had accumulated on the bandages, which Renwick didn't bother to change the previous night, which irritated the lacerations. He looked up to the sleeping princess. She was sleeping on her side; facing away from him. Renwick grunted as he attempted to shift into a more comfortable sitting position. His muscles ached from clinging to the side of the castle wall for so long. He let his head drop back against the wall and closed his eyes.

Cassandra had been awake most of the night. She was utterly confused and didn't know what to do. She felt numb. Her life had been completely turned upside-down and there was nothing she could've done about it. No, that wasn't true. That man, he never gave her his name, gave her a choice. Cassandra rolled over to face him. He was sitting up, leaning against the wall, but he seemed to still be asleep. Cassandra noticed the pained expression on his face then saw the ragged bandages on his hands.

Cassandra threw the covers off of herself and got up out of the small cot. She tried to remain as quiet as possible, but the floor boards creaked with each step she took. The man still showed no sign of waking up, so she continued to walk toward him. When she was finally in front of him, she crouched down so she was face-to-face. Cassandra looked at his hands. She recognized the makeshift bandages as the silk drapes in her room. For the first time since she was taken from Crestwall Castle, Cassandra smiled.

The princess reached out to grab his hand, but he realized it before she got there. Renwick's eyes snapped open and he sharply inhaled as if he was getting ready to run. The princess gasped as Renwick's hand wrapped around her wrist. He kept his eyes on her, but he didn't move. Eventually he exhaled and relaxed. His hand fell from her wrist and he closed his eyes.

"What were you doing?" He asked; his voice was hoarse and painful.

Cassandra was taken off guard by his sudden question and didn't reply right away. "Um, I-" she began shakily, "I just wanted to see your hands." Cassandra looked down at her feet in shame. She noticed the fresh blood on the wrist that the man grabbed.

"I don't need your concern," Renwick apathetically stated. He slowly stood up and walked over to the small wooden table in the back of the small hut. He picked up a metal bucket against the back wall and walked back over to the princess. He held it up in front of her and muttered, "Go fill this up with water, there's a small creek around back."

Cassandra took the bucket in her hands and watched as the man turned away from her. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but she closed it.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Renwick asked.

Cassandra opened her mouth again, "I just…"

"Come on, spit it out,"

"I just want to know the name of the man that took me in, so that I can properly thank him."

Renwick looked in her direction. He hesitated for a moment before answering, "Renwick,"

Cassandra nodded, "Well then, Renwick, thank you." Cassandra then walked toward the door. She tried to pull it toward her, but it wouldn't budge.

"It opens the other way," Renwick chuckled.

"Oh, so it does," Cassandra pushed the wooden door and it flew open. She stepped outside and softly closed the door behind her. The morning air was cold and there was still dew on the grass. Cassandra turned to walk toward the creek, she could hear running water, and came face-to-face with a horse. Cassandra shrieked as she jumped back from the large equine. She was not afraid of horses, but neither was she used to them being in her face.

Renwick heard her shriek and smirked. Rhett was always waiting for him in the morning; he must've spooked the princess. He walked toward the door and opened it to find the princess cautiously walking around Rhett. Renwick followed her over to the back of his hut where he bent down and grabbed up the firewood he had prepared a week or so before.

Cassandra walked over to the creek, dipped the bucket in so that water filled it up, and turned around to walk back in the hut. She was slightly surprised to see Renwick picking up wood several feet in front of her. Cassandra would think that it would be painful to lift or handle anything with mangled hands, but he seemed unaffected by the pain, if he felt any at all. Cassandra followed him back in the hut. She watched him as he took his knife to a chunk of flint. Sparks were flying into the small fireplace and one eventually lit the dry grass around the logs that Renwick had just collected.

"Here's the water," Cassandra said; she tried to make it sound as natural as possible.

Renwick didn't answer her at first. "Go set it down on the table."

Cassandra nodded and walked over to the back of the hut. She placed it on the table, and then walked back over to Renwick who was crouched in front of the small fire. He looked at her as she sat down next to him.

Renwick then stood up. "Make sure the fire doesn't go out," he said as he walked toward the table. Cassandra watched him as he carefully unwrapped the bandages on his hands. She got a quick glance at the lacerations in his hands before she looked away. It wasn't like she had never seen blood before, just never in large amounts.

Renwick threw the two strips of cloth on the table top. He didn't plan to reuse them; silk didn't do a very good job keeping the wounds from reopening. Renwick dipped his hands into the ice cold bucket of water. He grunted as he rubbed his hands together to clean them. He heard Cassandra stand up behind him, but he couldn't honestly care what she thought of him at that moment. He was a little surprised when she placed her hand on her shoulder. Renwick turned his head to look at her. She was gazing down at his hands that were submerged in the bucket of water.

"Let me see them," she flatly declared.

Renwick didn't argue as he lifted his hands out of the bucket. Cassandra took them in her grasp and examined the lacerations. There were at least five gashes on each hand, a few of them severely deep. Cassandra took one of the silk bandages and dipped it in the bucket. She rubbed her hands against it trying to get all of the dirt and blood off of it. Once she was satisfied with its condition, she wrung it out and wiped Renwick's hands with it.

Cassandra was slightly surprised that he didn't flinch or budge when the cold fabric came into contact with the cuts on his hands, but at the same time she wasn't. After the heartlessness he displayed the night before she would have been surprised if he was afraid of pain. Once Cassandra had cleaned both of his hands to her liking she asked him where he kept the other bandages.

"On the table," he replied.

Cassandra looked over to the table and spotted them. She hadn't realized they were there before because they looked just like the pieces of silk. She picked two of the strips of fabric up and immediately confirmed that they were not in fact silk and would protect Renwick's wounds. She tightly wrapped his mangled hands with the two bandages. When she finished, she gazed up at Renwick. He looked back at her.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Cassandra nodded in response, unsure of what to say. When she felt her cheeks redden, she turned away from him in embarrassment, and dropped his hands. Renwick heard a nervous whine from Rhett and looked up. Renwick was immediately on high alert. Cassandra, sensing the sudden change in atmosphere looked back up at Renwick.

"What is it?" She asked quietly.

Renwick didn't respond. He kept his eyes transfixed on the wooden door. There was another sound of dismay from Rhett and Renwick sprung into action. He silently crept over to the table near his door where he kept his blades. He only had two, a combat knife and the last throwing knife that was left from the previous night. Renwick slipped the combat knife onto his belt and walked over to Cassandra. He placed the throwing knife in her outstretched hand.

"I can't use this!" Cassandra stared at Renwick in utter bewilderment.

"I'm not asking you to use this, but I'm giving it to you because you might need to. We have visitors and I don't like how Rhett responded to their arrival."

"Visitors?" Cassandra repeated. She didn't like the wary tone of Renwick's voice.

Renwick turned his head to face the door again. This time, Cassandra heard it as well; there was a soft thudding, almost as if someone was trying to silence their step. Renwick calmly walked to the small window beside his door. Cassandra watched him as he cautiously peeked out side. Renwick swore under his breath. He motioned for Cassandra to come near him.

"Who is it?" She asked, hear voice shook in fear.

"It's the Mercy of Crestwall," Renwick replied.

"Who's that?"

"They're the people I work for," Renwick added. "You probably don't recognize them by name, but they are the ones who are responsible for the mysterious assassinations around Crestwall."

Cassandra's eyes widened. For the first time in several hours her thoughts returned to her father who was murdered right before her eyes by the man standing in front of her. She immediately dropped to her knees. She grasped her head and shook it back and forth. How could she let herself begin to fall for the man that completely ruined her life? A sob wracked her lithe frame.

"Cassandra," Renwick crouched down in front of her.

"No!" She shouted and scrambled away from him. "I want to go home," she sobbed. "I wish that I could just go home!"

Renwick was about to answer but a sudden knock on his door stopped him in his tracks. Even Cassandra was taken off guard and she froze. The knocking quickly escalated to a pounding.

"Listen, Cassandra," Renwick whispered, "you need to get out of here, and you need to go home." Cassandra looked up at Renwick but refused to speak. "I'll go out there and distract them. You get on Rhett and ride back into Crestwall."

Cassandra nodded; she felt numb. Renwick stood up and placed his hand on the door, but Cassandra stopped him. "Wait," she breathed, "why are you do certain that they're after us"

Renwick clenched his teeth together. "It's because I spared you; I was ordered not to let any witness live, but yet here you are."

Cassandra was stunned. She watched in shock as Renwick opened the door outward into someone's face. The door shut behind him and all Cassandra could then hear were the shouts of men and sounds of metal clashing against metal. It wasn't until she heard Rhett neigh in fear that she snapped out of her state of shock. Cassandra immediately bolted for the door. She pushed it outwards and ran toward Rhett who was tied down to the fence against the hut.

Cassandra hurriedly untied the reigns and mounted the black horse. She screamed as a man, dressed in a black cloak, broke away from the mass of brawling knives and bolted toward her. Rhett instantly reared back and kicked at the mercenary. The horse landed a fatal blow to the man's head and ran off into the woods with Cassandra hanging on for life. After she shook off the fear that clenched her throat, she took control of Rhett's reigns. Cassandra dug her heel into Rhett's side and the horse was off.

Just as she thought she was out of harm's way, several horses could be heard behind her. Cassandra looked back and gasped in horror. Three men, all in the same black cloaks, were chasing after her on black horses similar to Rhett. One of the men had a longbow that was strung with an arrow and ready to fire. Cassandra looked forward and beckoned Rhett to run faster, but to no avail; by the time her heel made contact with Rhett's side, the razor-tipped arrow struck his leg. Rhett yelped in surprise and pain. The horse toppled over and threw Cassandra off. She watched as the three men approached her, and she welcomed the darkness with open arms.

Cassandra was mad at herself. Even though she was back in the home she had wished for, she couldn't let herself enjoy it. After she was captured just outside Crestwall, the Mercy of Crestwall brought her back to the castle where she now sat in the throne room. Several men stood before her; all of them wore black cloaks and Cassandra couldn't see any of their faces.

"What did you do with Renwick?" Cassandra demanded.

"The traitor is fine, he's being held in the dungeons," one of the men flatly replied.

Cassandra took a sigh of relief, at least he was alive. She sat back against the throne that her father sat on days before. Her head shot up as the large double doors opened. Another man walked in, but he was not cloaked in black, he wore armor very similar to that of royal nobles. The three mercenaries in front of Cassandra all turned and bowed toward the man as he walked closer to the throne. Cassandra gasped as she realized who he was.

"You recognize me?" the man grinned, obviously pleased with himself.

"You're the Duke of Exwire," Cassandra answered in shock.

"That I am, princess," the man chuckled, "but yet I am not. I am the leader of the Mercy of Crestwall, the ones responsible for the death of your father. Call me Obsidian."

Cassandra looked down at her feet. "Why did you do it?"

"I did it for power, and control. Your father was simply a road block, and he had to be taken down,"

"Then why am I here?" Cassandra looked back up at Obsidian. Rage clouded her eyes.

"I've been waiting for you to say that!" Obsidian shouted in joy. "You are here because I need you. You are of royal blood, after all."

"If you needed someone of royal blood why did you kill my father?" Tears poured down Cassandra's face.

"Your father was a strong man, princess, I could not get him to bend to my ruling," Obsidian sighed. "In other words, your father was too much of a threat. The people of Crestwall loved your father; they still do even though he is dead and gone. Even if I could get him under my rule, there are too many people out there who strongly support him, therefore too many opportunities for an uprising. You, on the other hand, have been isolated from society your whole life. The people know you're there, but you've always just been a figure head. That is why you're perfect for the job," Obsidian paused. "You are here, princess, because I have on offer for you."

Cassandra sat on the throne in shock; the tears stopped flowing down her cheeks. She never would have realized that the murders could have been executed by an organization of this caliber. Even worse than that, their leader was right under her father's nose the whole time. "What is your offer?" She asked numbly.

"You can either stay here with me inside the castle walls, or you can leave and go with Renwick back into the forest outside of Crestwall,"

Cassandra sharply stared down at Obsidian. "There's a catch. What will happen if I go with Renwick?"

"Smart girl," Obsidian scoffed, "you're father would be so proud."

"Just answer the question!"

"If you go with Renwick, your people will be eliminated. If you stay here with me, Renwick is mine,"

"What will you do with him?"

"That is not of your concern,"

Cassandra cursed under her breath. Tears began to pour from her eyes as she realized the only right thing to do. No, that's not true. Cassandra knew the answer before she was done speaking with Obsidian. She knew that she would only be letting her father down if she chose the other. Cassandra chuckled to herself. Her father once told her that wishes can't come true and wishing is just a waste of time and energy. Cassandra wished twice in the day that had just passed, both of hers came true. She was disgusted with herself.

"What is your decision?"

Cassandra didn't respond at first. She calmly wiped her eyes before answering, "I… I wish for the safety of my people,"

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**Did'ya like it? R&R please! **

**I've also been pondering if I should write a sequel to this, or if it would do better as a stand-alone One-Shot. Let me know!  
**


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